


can i tell you how i'm feeling, or have you already read my mind?

by quirkdog



Series: can i tell you how i'm feeling? [1]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, discussions of mental health, most of the others will probably show up but this isn't really about them, takes place sometime around the end of season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24883039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quirkdog/pseuds/quirkdog
Summary: Something is wrong with Abed.in which troy worries about abed, only some of those worries are justified, and both of them learn to grow as people and as friends.
Relationships: Troy Barnes & Abed Nadir
Series: can i tell you how i'm feeling? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820587
Comments: 27
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from heaven knows by josh ritter.
> 
> i am by no stretch of the imagination a writer, but i've been stuck at home for over three months now and i can only bake so many batches of cookies.
> 
> i was inspired to write this by onemechanicalalligator's fantastic series [Topics in Recovery and Romance](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775179) as well as some of my own personal baggage in my own personal brain.
> 
> heads up this story will eventually include (not super graphic) depictions of and subsequent discussions of self-harm and a suicide attempt. tags will be updated accordingly.

Something is wrong with Abed.

Troy’s not an idiot, despite what a lot of people might think, and he’s been friends with Abed long enough to recognize when he’s not acting like himself. Abed isn’t a “normal” person, the little version of Jeff that lives in Troy’s brain likes to remind him, but Troy knows what is and isn’t typical behavior for his best friend. There isn’t one thing in particular that he can point to and say is definitely wrong, but he’s been noticing little things for several months now—things that someone who doesn’t live with Abed and spend almost all of their free time with him probably wouldn’t think twice about.

For one thing, there’s Abed’s sleep schedule. He’s always been a night owl, but the amount of sleep he’s been getting lately can’t be healthy. No matter how late Troy goes to bed, Abed always stays up later watching Inspector Spacetime or editing some film project. No matter how early Troy wakes up, Abed is always up before him. More often than not, Abed isn’t even in the apartment when Troy wakes up for class. He’s not sure where Abed’s been going so early in the morning, but he’s usually already in the study room when Troy gets to school.

He’s also been eating less. Again, Abed has always had certain hangups surrounding food, but normally he would eat at least two relatively full meals a day. Now, though, Troy would guess he’s been skipping breakfast (but he can’t know for sure, since Abed usually leaves before Troy wakes up), he just moves his food around his plate before throwing it away untouched when the group eats lunch together at school, and Troy considers himself lucky if he can convince Abed to eat a bowl of buttered noodles for dinner.

Somehow—before, Troy wouldn’t have even thought it was possible—Abed’s been even more distant and lost in himself than usual. He zones out during class, while they’re watching TV, even sometimes in the middle of the Dreamatorium. Troy knows that running simulations in there can wear him out sometimes, but this feels different. He looks almost sad when it happens (not in a way that most people would notice, but Troy’s learned to read into the softening of his eyes and the set of his jaw), and when he realizes that Troy is watching him he’ll snap out of it and act like it never happened.

Abed almost always wears long sleeves, but occasionally (especially when it starts getting warm out) he’ll wear a short sleeved flannel or just a t shirt. Lately, though, he’s been wearing a hoodie or a cardigan with the sleeves pulled down every day, even when it’s hot. He’s also stopped changing in front of Troy, and Troy tries not to think about what that means. He desperately hopes that he’s wrong.

One of the most frustrating parts about it is that none of these are actually _new_ behaviors. They’ve all just…escalated in a way that worries Troy, but that the others aren’t likely to notice and that they’d probably all brush off as just Abed being Abed if Troy voiced his concerns to the rest of the group. He tries to imagine how he would even bring it up to them and cringes to himself.

Jeff would probably laugh it off, remind Troy that Abed is weird and not normal and make a joke about Troy being overprotective of his “boyfriend.”

Britta would want to go all therapist on Abed—he knows she means well, but he feels like that’s the last thing Abed needs right now.

Shirley would just shake her head and mutter something about how Abed would feel better if he accepted Jesus into his life.

Obviously Pierce isn’t an option for this kind of conversation.

And Annie…to be honest, he’s not sure what’s been going on between Abed and Annie lately. He knows something happened in the Dreamatorium the day he went out for lunch with Britta, but neither of them has volunteered anything about it and Troy doesn’t feel like it’s his place to ask. He considers talking to her about his concerns, but he knows that at least part of her sees Abed as spoiled and immature, that she doesn’t have the same patience with him that Troy has. No one does. And if Abed won’t tell his best friend what’s wrong, Troy thinks (selfishly, bitterly), why would he tell Annie?

He’s even considered trying to get in touch with Abed’s dad, but he doesn’t know if that’s the best idea either. From what he understands, Abed and his dad don’t have a great relationship. Troy’s met Mr. Nadir a couple of times, and he doesn’t seem to understand his son any better than most people do. Occasionally, Troy will come home to find Abed talking on the phone in rapid Arabic. He doesn’t understand what Abed is saying (obviously), but he assumes he’s talking to his dad, and it usually sounds like they’re arguing about something. Part of him feels like he has some obligation as Abed’s best friend to tell his dad that something is up, but a bigger part of him feels like he would be betraying Abed by going behind his back. He doesn’t want Abed to be angry with him, and he really doesn’t want to jeopardize their friendship over something that might not even be that big a deal. No, this is something that Troy needs to handle himself.

He doesn’t know what to do, though.

He’s tried a couple of times to start a conversation about what’s been going on, but Abed is one of the most emotionally closed off people he’s ever met. Every time Troy tries to get serious with him Abed will just deflect with some joke or reference or change the subject entirely, and to be honest Troy is getting tired of trying so hard and getting nothing in return. He understands that his best friend doesn’t exactly wear his emotions on his sleeve like Troy does (few people do), but at this point it’s beginning to feel like Abed doesn’t tell him _anything_ real about himself. It doesn’t seem fair, especially because Troy feels like he’s told Abed everything about his own life—how he felt when his dad left his mom for a woman (a _girl,_ practically) his own age, how he faked his keg flip injuries because he was terrified of the pressure of earning a football scholarship, hell, even how he was so scared of the dark that he had to sleep with a night light until he was 15. He knows that this kind of trust and honesty aren’t transactional, that he shouldn’t expect Abed to share the private parts of himself with Troy just because Troy had done so for him, but he can’t help but feel a little insulted that he hasn’t.

After all, what does Troy even know about Abed’s life, really?

He knows that Abed’s parents are divorced. He knows from Abed’s Christmastime breakdown that his mom has a new family, and that Abed didn’t handle that news very well. He has a vague picture of Abed’s childhood—he understands that he bounced from doctor to doctor for a while before his parents split (Abed’s never said what kind of doctors, or why) and that he was bullied a lot in school—but beyond that, Abed’s life is basically a big question mark to Troy.

The fact that he doesn’t seem to trust Troy enough to tell him about his past, or enough to talk to him now even though _there’s clearly something wrong with him,_ is starting to frustrate Troy more and more. He wants desperately to help Abed with whatever he’s going through, but Abed seems bent on not letting him. He knows he’s more mad at himself and at this whole situation than he is at Abed, but it feels easier to externalize that anger and project it onto Abed than face the fact that he feels completely, utterly useless.

Once he decides that he’s mad at Abed, though, things only seem to get worse. He gets snippy and impatient with him, and Abed just retreats further into himself. Part of Troy knows that this escalation is at least partially his fault, but at this point he can’t really bring himself to care. If Abed wants to be miserable, if he wants to cut himself off and refuse the help of his best friend, who is Troy to stop him? He’s human too, after all. He can only take so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this ends in kind of a dark place...i promise things will get better eventually and people will TALK about their FEELINGS and such and it'll be very cathartic


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i know this ends on kind of a cliffhanger and i considered putting this and the next chapter together but ultimately decided against it. sorry.

Things come to a head on a Friday.

Troy wakes up with a headache, so he’s already in a bad mood when he walks out into the kitchen for breakfast. Abed is, surprisingly, still in the apartment, leaning against the counter and fixing Troy with an odd look.

“Hey,” he says.

Troy just grunts in response, avoiding eye contact with Abed and pushing past him to get to the cereal. He pours himself a bowl and eats in awkward silence, he and Abed standing feet apart from each other but not talking or even looking at each other.

 _When did this become what we are?_ He wonders. They used to be so close. He’s tried to think of anything that’s happened that might have triggered this change—the whole celebrity impersonator ordeal, maybe, or their pillow/blanket fort war—but he doesn’t think that either of those is it. He feels like it would be easier if there was one thing he could point to, some single event that made Abed wake up one day different from the day before, but it’s not really like that. There’s no clear before and after, it’s been creeping and gradual and Troy can’t even remember when he started to notice that things had changed. He’s vaguely reminded of some metaphor Britta had used once about a frog in a pot of boiling water. He didn’t really get it then and still doesn’t entirely know what it means, but it feels like it applies here.

He knows he’s being childish, that he could stop stewing and just _talk_ to Abed, ask him point blank what’s going on with him, and that Abed would probably (hopefully) give him a straight answer. But he’s mad at Abed, he reminds himself, and if Abed wants to keep playing this game then Troy will, too.

After he finishes his cereal, he goes back to their blanket fort to grab his backpack and his keys.

“You ready to go?” he asks Abed, because he’s not totally heartless (this isn’t the Darkest Timeline, after all, and he isn’t Evil Troy). He’s always given Abed a ride to school—that is, when Abed is still in the apartment when Troy leaves, which happens less and less often lately, and a couple of weeks ago Troy found out that Abed has been _walking_ to school in the morning, and they only live 6 miles from campus, and Troy knows firsthand that Abed is in much better shape than a lot of people give him credit for, but that still feels like a lot, even for him—and he’s not going to stop just because they’re maybe sort of fighting.

“Oh. Um. I actually think I’m gonna get a ride from Annie today. If that’s cool.” Abed is staring at the floor.

That stings Troy in a way that he doesn’t want to think about. His best friend doesn’t even want to be in a car with him anymore?

“Whatever,” Troy replies, and heads out of the apartment. If he happens to shut the door a little more forcefully than normal on his way out, well, who can blame him?

By the time he drives to school, parks, sits in his car for a while, and finally walks to the study room, most of his anger has dissipated. Jeff, Britta, and Shirley are already there, and all three of them look up at him when he comes in the door.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Jeff asks.

“Riding with Annie.” It comes out more bitter than he expected. Alright, maybe he is still angry.

Just then, though, Annie walks into the study room. Abed isn’t with her.

“Hey guys!” She’s her usual, cheerful self, and it hits Troy like a slap in the face.

“Where’s Abed?” He asks it before he’s even registered that he’s speaking. Annie gives him a puzzled look.

“Hm?” She glances around the room. “Oh, I assumed you two drove together, like usual.”

“He told me he was riding with you today.”

“He didn’t say anything to me. I didn’t even know he was still in the apartment when I left.” Annie’s looking intently at Troy, and he can tell that she sees something on his face. “Maybe he just went back to bed or something. It sounded like he was up pretty late last night.”

“Yeah, probably.” Troy knows he doesn’t sound convinced, but that’s because he isn’t.

Something isn’t right about this. Why would Abed say that he was getting a ride from Annie if he wasn’t? Abed doesn’t lie, especially not to Troy. He sits down at the table and pulls out his phone to text Abed.

>>???

>>r u just gonna walk to school?

>>ur gonna be late for class

Abed doesn’t respond right away, which isn’t abnormal for him, but Troy can’t help feeling like something is very, very wrong. At some point Pierce shows up and the group gets into some debate about something, but Troy isn’t a part of it. He feels like time is moving around him. He can’t stop glancing at Abed’s empty seat, and his leg is bouncing like crazy under the table, and every part of his brain is screaming at him. After about five minutes (but what feels like five hours), he stands up abruptly.

“I forgot my biology book at home.”

It’s not _technically_ a lie. He knows his textbook is sitting on the floor next to his and Abed’s bed. He doesn’t usually bring it to class, but what if he needs it today? It’s a complete coincidence that going back to get it would give him a chance to check on Abed.

He realizes that the entire group is staring at him, so he clears his throat awkwardly and makes his way to the door.

“See you guys in class.”

He does _not_ run to his car, but he might be walking a little faster than usual. He tells himself that it’s not because of Abed, that he needs to hurry if he wants to make it to biology on time. Traffic tends to be pretty heavy this time of day. When he gets to his car, he takes out his phone and tries texting Abed again.

>>whats going on???

>>are you okay?

He’s not really expecting a response at this point, but it still makes his stomach drop when his phone doesn’t buzz back.

As he drives home, he reminds himself that he’s going back for his textbook, not for Abed. Abed’s probably just sleeping or blowing off class to work on a film project. He’s not a little kid. He doesn’t need to be coddled. He’s an adult fully capable of making his own decisions. He’s fine, Troy doesn’t need to worry about him.

He wishes he could believe what he’s telling himself.

Three run stop signs later, he’s practically sprinting up the stairs to the apartment. He fumbles with the keys in the lock—when did his hands start shaking this much?—and opens the door.

Everything looks the same as he left it this morning. He doesn’t know what he was expecting.

He breathes out a sigh of relief. Of course Abed is fine. He was worrying for nothing. He walks over to the blanket fort, deciding not to knock or say anything in case Abed is sleeping. He’ll just quietly grab his textbook and go back to school.

He pulls back the “door” of the fort and stops dead in his tracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next chapter will probably be the darkest so hang in there. also thank you so much to the people who read and liked the first chapter...imagine me surrounded by heart emojis while typing this.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: this chapter includes depictions of self harm & blood. it's not super graphic, but it's there.

The first thing he notices is that Abed is wearing headphones.

The second thing he notices is that Abed is holding something silver in his hand ( _a razor blade,_ his brain supplies him distantly).

The third thing he notices is that that is a _lot_ of blood.

Abed looks up at Troy and pauses whatever was playing on his laptop, and for several seconds they just stare at each other. Neither of them is moving, and Troy really, _really_ doesn’t know what to do. He feels like he should say something, but he doesn’t think that he could physically speak right now even if he had anything to say.

Eventually, Abed reaches up slowly and takes off his headphones, putting them around his neck. He’s still staring at Troy, something like guilt flashing across his face.

“You’re home early,” he says matter-of-factly.

Troy forces himself to swallow and say _something_.

“Yeah, I uh. Forgot my biology book here.”

Abed knows that Troy never brings his book to class, but if he catches the lie he doesn’t acknowledge it. He nods awkwardly as Troy bends down to pick the book up, looking anywhere but at Abed and his wrists and the _blood_ that he knows is covering them. Troy stands up stiffly and turns to leave.

He suddenly realizes that he doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince with this ridiculous textbook story, and that Abed deserves the truth.

“Also you weren’t answering your texts.”

Abed startles at that, glances over to where his phone is lying facedown on the bed.

“I wasn’t checking my phone.” He’s acting so calm, like Troy didn’t just walk in on him doing _that,_ and it makes Troy want to scream. He can’t look at Abed right now, he needs to be anywhere but here.

“Yeah.”

He walks out of the blanket fort and locks himself in the bathroom, dry heaving into the toilet until he can remember how to breathe. He sits down in the bathtub and puts his head in his hands, hot tears beginning to form in his eyes and spill onto his cheeks.

He knows that it’s normal to cry, that it’s not a sign of weakness, but he can’t help but hear his dad’s voice telling him that _men don’t cry_ and that _tears don’t accomplish anything_. He keeps crying, though, curled up in the bathtub and sobbing as quietly as he can in the hope that Abed can’t hear him.

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, but at some point it occurs to him that he really is going to be late for biology. He doesn’t really care about that class, but he doesn’t know what else to do, because he definitely can’t stay here with Abed right now. Suddenly, all of his anger from the past few weeks comes flooding back to him, and he realizes that he’s _furious_ with Abed. Troy has done everything he can to reach out and help him, but Abed has just brushed him off, pretending that nothing is wrong with him. If he doesn’t trust Troy enough to really talk to him, if he’d rather work through his issues by doing _that_ instead (Troy still can’t bring himself to actually say what it was Abed was doing, even in his own head), then that’s his choice. He knows that Abed hates it when people baby him, so he won’t. He angrily wipes his eyes and picks up his textbook from the floor, splashing some cold water on his face before leaving the bathroom.

On his way out of the apartment he vaguely registers that Abed is standing outside the blanket fort. He thinks Abed might be trying to say something to him as he pulls the door shut behind him, but he’s not going to go back in there to talk to him right now. He takes out his phone to text him instead.

>>im gonna be gone for awhile

He starts to put it back in his pocket, but the angry, spiteful part of him stops himself. He types out another message.

>>i wont interrupt u again

He regrets it as soon as he sends it, but it’s too late. He considers apologizing, but he’s still too angry right now for it to be sincere, and at this point he’s really, actually going to be late for biology class, and the last thing he needs right now is to have the rest of the study group on his ass. He puts his phone away and gets into his car, trying to forget everything that just happened.

He can’t.

The entire drive back to school, he just keeps replaying it over and over again. He had had his suspicions, he had honestly assumed (though he hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself) that Abed had been hurting himself, but he hadn’t been prepared to witness it like that. And Abed had been so calm, so measured, and somehow that made it even worse than if he had been crying or yelling or _something_. Troy at least would have known how to deal with that kind of emotion, could have hugged him and comforted him and talked to him until he calmed down, but Abed had just continued to shut him out, like always. And Troy had only made things worse.

He suddenly realizes that he’s been a really, really bad friend.

He shouldn’t have given up on Abed so easily, he should have kept trying to reach out to him. Instead, he had allowed his own stupid pride and insecurity to drive an even bigger wedge between them. And then he had walked in on Abed in the most vulnerable situation he could imagine, and he hadn’t even tried to talk to him about it. He’d just left. _No wonder Abed never really talks to me,_ he thinks, _if this is how I react when something goes wrong_.

This isn’t even the first time something like this has happened. He remembers the text message he’d sent Abed after reading that intercepted email about Troy’s weaknesses, how hurt and angry he’d felt. And he knows that Abed sending that email wasn’t okay, that he had taken the whole battle homage too far, but in the context of the war it had been a strategic move. It wasn’t personal. Troy’s text had been personal.

If he lashes out like that every time he’s upset, what kind of friend does that make him? He feels a wave of guilt and shame wash over him as he pulls into the parking lot. He considers just blowing off class and going back to the apartment, but after the way he’d acted he figures Abed probably doesn’t want to see him right now. Instead, he pulls out his phone to text him again.

>>i didnt mean that. im sorry.

He knows that he’s fucked up. Like, really, massively fucked up, and he wouldn’t blame Abed if he never wants to talk to him again, but he really hopes that’s not the case, because Abed is the best friend he’s ever had and Troy doesn’t know what he would do without him. He sighs and wipes his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater (when had he started to cry again?) and gets out of the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof baboof. idk how long i really expected this to be when i started it but it's turning out longer than that. also apologies for any mistakes, about half of this gets written in the notes app on my phone at like 3am. and once again, thank you for your kind comments. you make me feel like that one emoji with the really big eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact i had to rewrite some of the first part of this because i briefly forgot that britta exists. sorry britta.

He’s only a few minutes late for biology, and he feels the rest of the group’s eyes on him as he takes his usual place at the lab bench. Nobody says anything to him, though, because Professor Kane is lecturing, which Troy is grateful for.

He zones out for most of the lesson, staring down at his hands and picking at his cuticles. He rips a hangnail off of his pinky and it starts to bleed, and the sight of the blood makes him want to throw up. His hands are shaking and he feels himself breathing faster and faster, and suddenly someone is grabbing him and shaking him and he snaps back to reality.

“Pierce, that’s enough,” Annie says, and Pierce’s hands fall away from Troy’s shoulders. He wonders briefly why they’re making a scene in the middle of class, but then he looks around and sees that all of the other students are gone and Professor Kane is taking a phone call in his office. According to the clock on the wall, class ended five minutes ago. Annie puts her hand gently on Troy’s arm.

“Hey Troy,” she begins, and she’s using the same cloying voice that she uses on Abed when he gets overwhelmed that he and Troy both secretly hate. “Are you okay? Where’s Abed?”

“He’s back at the apartment.” His voice is about an octave higher than usual, and Jeff rolls his eyes.

“What, are you two fighting again?”

Annie, Shirley, and Britta all glare at Jeff and hiss his name in unison, and then they’re looking back at Troy with this _pity,_ and Jeff rolls his eyes again, and Pierce is being, well, Pierce, and Troy can’t handle any of it, so he stands up and walks out of the room without saying anything. He hears someone call his name, and then he hears someone else say something like _let him go,_ and then Britta says something that he doesn’t catch but that definitely contains the word “therapize,” and then he’s out in the hallway and walking to the men’s room and locking himself in a stall to hyperventilate some more.

Just as he’s beginning to get himself back under control, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He figures it’s from someone in the study group, probably Annie, but he pulls it out anyway to check.

It’s from Abed.

>>You’re mad at me.

Abed isn’t great with reading other people’s emotions, and usually he has to ask Troy if he’s mad at him, but this isn’t a question. Troy thinks about what a huge mess he’s made of things, and he carefully considers his response. His first reaction is to reassure Abed that he’s not mad at him, but that wouldn’t really be the truth. Part of him is still angry, and he doesn’t think it would do any good to try to keep ignoring that. If he wants Abed to be open with him, then he shouldn’t hide what he’s feeling, either. He also doesn’t want to escalate the situation, though, since Abed is clearly pretty volatile right now.

>>im mad that you wont tell me whats going on w/ you

After a couple of minutes, Abed still hasn’t responded. Troy begins to worry that he said the wrong thing, but then his phone buzzes again.

>>It’s not a big deal. I’m fine.

Fine? _Fine?_ How can Abed be saying he’s _fine?_ Troy knows Abed doesn’t think he’s stupid—he’s one of the few people that doesn’t—which makes it hurt even more. He feels his frustration grow as he types back.

>>youre literally not

He resists the urge to add a passive aggressive “lol” at the end of his text. He may be angry, but he knows that Abed has trouble with tone and doesn’t want to confuse him. He just wishes that Abed would stop pretending that everything’s okay when it so obviously isn’t. He wants to find some way to convey that to Abed so he’ll understand, and then he remembers the conversation they’d had after the situation with the celebrity impersonators.

>>friends dont lie to each other, remember? we promised

It’s only a couple of seconds before he gets a reply.

>>I’m sorry.

He feels something like hope, like a door has finally been opened between them, like maybe he hasn’t totally ruined things. He really wants to make it right—he wants to apologize to Abed, in person, and talk to him, and he hopes that Abed will listen.

>>i just care about you, man

>>is it okay if i come back to the apartment?

His phone has been buzzing with texts from Annie and Britta for several minutes now, so as he waits for Abed’s answer he scrolls through their various _are you okay?_ and _where did you go?_ messages. He’s trying to figure out a way to answer them when Abed responds.

>>I’m actually not in the apartment anymore.

Okay, that is definitely not what Troy was expecting. Why would Abed have left the apartment? Did he go out for a walk? Is he actually way angrier with Troy than he’s letting on and he decided to leave, to move out? Maybe he’s taking his stuff to Pavel’s dorm, to crash there until he can find something more permanent or even to stay there for good. Troy’s mind is racing with possibilities, and his phone buzzes again.

>>The police picked me up.

Wait, the _police?_ That raises even more questions. Has Abed...committed a crime? Who would have called the police on him? This is all very confusing.

>>???

Abed clarifies a few seconds later.

>>They’re taking me to the hospital.

That makes a little more sense, but Troy still has about a million questions. He doesn’t want to overwhelm Abed right now, though, so he only asks the one that he thinks is most important.

>>do you know how long youre gonna be there?

He knows that Abed hates doctors of all kinds, but he especially hates hospitals. They’re loud and chaotic and unpredictable, and Troy remembers how on edge Abed had been while they’d been in the hospital filming the documentary about Pierce’s “death.” He’s probably freaking out right now, and Troy can’t help but feel like this is all his fault.

>>I’m not sure.

He’s trying to think of something to say to Abed to convey how sorry he is when Annie calls him. He knows that he should probably talk to her, that the group is probably concerned about him after what happened in the biology room, so he sighs and answers the call.

“Hi.”

“Troy?” She sounds really worried, which makes Troy feel even guiltier. “Where are you? Where’s _Abed?_ What’s going on?” Troy doesn’t know what to say to any of that, and Annie continues. “I thought you two were fighting, and then you freaked out in class, and you said that he was at the apartment but he wasn’t here when I got home and his bed is covered in _blood_ and—Troy, what happened?” She sounds almost hysterical at this point, and it definitely isn’t helping Troy’s own anxiety.

“When I went back for my book, I caught him, um...” The words catch in his throat, and he tries again. “He was, um, hurting himself. The police are taking him to the hospital.”

“Oh my god, Troy, is he okay? Are _you_ okay?”

“I’m...” Troy starts to cry again. “I fucked up, Annie. Oh god, I _really_ fucked up. I walked in and he was…and I didn’t know what to do and I just...I just _left,_ and I don’t know who called the cops but it wasn’t me, I didn’t...fuck, Annie, _fuck_.” His words are coming out in strangled sobs and the room is spinning and he’s forgotten how to breathe for what feels like the hundredth time today.

“Troy,” he hears Annie say. “ _Troy_. You have to breathe, okay? We’re gonna figure this out. Why don’t you come back to the apartment?”

He sort of really doesn’t want to be alone right now, so he agrees and hangs up. He takes several deep breaths before unlocking the stall door and heading out of the bathroom.

As soon as he walks into the apartment, Annie runs over to him and hugs him tightly. After a minute or so, she pulls back and studies his face intently.

“Are you okay?” She asks it kindly, and Troy knows she’s being genuine, but something about it rubs him the wrong way. Why does she keep asking if _he’s_ okay? He’s not the one she should be worrying about. She should be worried about Abed, they all should be. This isn’t about Troy. If anything, this whole thing is Troy’s fault, and he deserves to feel bad. He doesn’t know how to say any of this out loud, though, so he just shakes his head.

“Oh, Troy,” she whispers, and pulls him in for another hug. “I stripped his bed and changed his sheets,” she says. “It seemed like the right thing to do.” Troy is intensely grateful to have Annie in his life, and he’s about to thank her when he remembers that he still hasn’t texted Abed back. He steps back and grabs his phone from his pocket.

>>hows everything going? any word on when you can leave?

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Annie asks. Troy shakes his head again.

>>I don’t know, they’re not telling me much. I think they’re keeping me overnight for observation.

Troy sighs and puts his head in his hands. He feels miserable. "He probably hates me," he says. "He probably never wants to see me again."

Annie is rubbing small circles into his back. "Come on, Troy, we both know that's not true. You were faced with a really tough situation, and you reacted badly. You're still his best friend." She smiles. "He loves you."

Troy really hopes she's right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're definitely gonna talk face to face soon. i promise. and as always, thank you for the support <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies for the delay in updating!! i ended up being a lot busier than i had anticipated this weekend, so i didn't get the chance to finish this chapter until now. i should be back with a regularly scheduled update tomorrow.

The next several hours pass in a haze. Troy skips his other class, he doesn’t think he could handle being around other people and pretending to be okay right now. Instead, he just sits in his armchair in front of the TV, paying no attention to the Star Trek marathon that’s playing. At some point, it gets dark out, and Annie walks up beside him and touches his forearm gently.

“Hey,” she says softly, and Troy looks up at her. “Have you eaten anything since breakfast?”

Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t, but to be honest he’s never felt less hungry. He tells Annie as much, and she sighs.

“I know, but you should at least eat something. Come on, I made some stir fry.”

Troy knows that she’s probably right, that he should eat something, but part of him feels like he doesn’t deserve to eat right now, that he should be punished somehow for what he’s done. He doesn’t really want to say that, though, since it would probably make Annie worry about him, so he stands up and walks numbly to the table. She puts a plate of food and a fork in front of him, and he mumbles a _thanks_ as he picks up the fork. Annie sits down across from him and watches as he halfheartedly moves the food around the plate. After a long silence, she clears her throat.

“The rest of the group has been asking what’s going on. Is it okay if I tell them? Abed’s their friend, too. I think they deserve to know.” Troy starts to panic at that, he doesn’t want everyone else to know how badly he’d screwed up. Annie must see it on his face, because she backtracks. “I wouldn’t give the details, just that Abed is in the hospital. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay.” He’s glad that she offered and that he doesn’t have to tell the others. He doesn’t know what he’d say. He stares down at his untouched food while Annie types on her phone, and after several more minutes of silence she speaks up again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He really, really doesn’t, but Annie’s been so patient and so good to him today, and he feels like he owes her an explanation. He sighs and puts his fork down.

“Something’s been...going on with Abed. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s been eating less, sleeping less, acting weird.” She doesn’t point out that Abed _is_ weird, and he’s grateful for that. “I don’t know how long it’s been going on, probably a couple of months. I tried to talk to him about it a few times, but he just kept brushing it off. I didn’t know what else to do, because there was obviously something wrong, but he wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Is that why you went back?” Annie asks. “When he didn’t show up to school? You were worried about…” She trails off, and Troy nods.

“I was kind of a dick to him this morning, and then he said he was riding with you to school and when you showed up and he wasn’t with you…I don’t even know what I thought I’d find, but when I came in he was—” He shuts his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath. “Well, you saw the blood. And he was being so calm, like it wasn’t a big deal, and I didn’t know what to do, and I was so _mad_ at him for shutting me out, so I just…left. And he was trying to talk to me, and I just _left_.”

“Oh,” Annie says sadly, taking his hand from across the table. “I’m so sorry, Troy. But it sounds like he’s been dealing with something for a while now. This isn’t your fault.”

“But what if it is?” Troy retorts, startling himself with the volume of his own voice. “I’ve been an asshole to him for weeks, and then today I caught him doing—” He takes a breath. “And I just walked out on him. Fuck, I did the _one thing_ that he’s really afraid of, the thing that he’s convinced everyone will do to him. I just confirmed his worst fucking fear.” He’s started to cry again. “I’m supposed to be his _friend,_ ” he whispers, and hangs his head. “He deserves better.”

Annie squeezes his hand. “Troy, look at me,” she says, and he reluctantly complies. “You did a bad thing. That doesn’t make you a bad person, or even a bad friend. It makes you human. We all make mistakes. Abed’s made mistakes. He’s hurt your feelings before. Did you stop being friends with him then?”

“No,” Troy replies, “but this is—”

“No,” Annie interrupts. “You didn’t. And he won’t now. He doesn’t hate you. I don’t think it’s possible for him to hate you, you guys are like the best friends I’ve ever seen. You just have to talk to him. He’ll understand.”

Troy considers what she’s saying. It makes sense, logically, but he’s still having trouble really believing it. He flashes her a tight smile before standing up from the table.

“I’m pretty tired, I think I’m gonna go to bed,” he says, and Annie stands up to hug him.

“It’s gonna be okay, Troy,” she says as he walks to the blanket fort. “ _He’s_ gonna be okay.”

He can’t sleep.

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Abed, covered in his own blood. Troy had only actually seen him like that for a few seconds, but the image is burned into his memory. He’s acutely aware that Abed had been doing it on his bed, that it had happened right below where Troy is now. Annie’s put clean sheets on Abed’s bed—he doesn’t know where the stained ones are now, and he doesn’t think he wants to—but it doesn’t really make the blanket fort feel any less like a crime scene. He doubts he’ll ever get to sleep if he stays in there, so he decides to move out to his chair by the TV. If he’s going to talk to Abed tomorrow when he gets home from the hospital, he doesn’t want to do it on zero hours of sleep.

Eventually, he must doze off, because it’s light out when he’s woken by the vibrating of his phone. The call is from an unknown number, but Troy decides to answer anyway. It might be someone at the hospital, calling about Abed.

“Hello?” He mumbles, cringing at the obvious mix of exhaustion and anxiety in his voice.

“Troy?”

It’s Abed. Troy suddenly feels very awake, sitting bolt upright in his chair.

“Abed? Hey, what’s going on? Are you coming home?”

“I’m...I’m sick, Troy.” Abed’s voice doesn’t usually betray a lot of emotion, but even over the phone he sounds so small, so _defeated,_ and it breaks Troy’s heart.

“What? Are you okay?” Troy mentally kicks himself. Obviously he isn’t okay.

“They brought me to the psych ward at the hospital. I don’t know how long I’m gonna be here, but from what they told me it’s gonna be at least a few days.”

Troy feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. Abed’s in a _psych ward?_ He thought that that kind of place was only for people who hear voices and talk to ghosts, like a jail for the really crazy people. Not his best friend.

“Abed, I—”

“Can I ask you a favor?” Abed interrupts, and the question catches Troy off guard.

“Um, yeah. Of course,” he replies quickly, injecting as much sincerity into his voice as he can. “Anything.”

“Okay. My dad should be stopping by the apartment sometime this afternoon. I asked him to bring me some stuff from home, I was wondering if you could gather it for him.”

“Yeah, sure,” Troy says, running to his backpack to grab a notebook and a pen. “What do you need?”

Abed lists several items, mostly clothes—underwear, t shirts, sweatpants, a couple of sweatshirts that he asks Troy to take the strings out of (apparently they’re not allowed to have anything with strings, cords, or laces in there, and Troy tries really hard not to think about why)—and some comic books. He asks if there’s anything else Abed needs, and Abed says that there isn’t. Troy wants to say something else, wants to tell Abed that everything is gonna be okay, but he’s at a loss for words. Abed thanks him and hangs up the phone.

While he’s gathering everything, he realizes that it never even occurred to him to try to contact Abed’s dad after what happened. Someone must have called him from the hospital. Troy’s not sure how much Abed had told the doctors or anyone else, or how much Abed’s dad knows about Troy’s own involvement in everything, but he’s prepared for this to be an intensely uncomfortable interaction. He figures that he probably deserves it, though, and there’s no use avoiding it, so he puts everything Abed asked for in a plastic bag and sets it on the table. Annie’s gone out, she left a note saying that she’d promised to babysit Shirley’s kids for the day, so he texts her to update her on the situation with Abed and sits down to wait for Mr. Nadir to show up.

While he’s waiting, his curiosity gets the better of him and he looks up the standard procedure for involuntary commitment to a psych ward. It’s not good. It wouldn’t be for anybody, he thinks, but he can’t imagine what that must have been like for Abed. No wonder he’d sounded so broken on the phone. Troy feels nauseous.

There’s a knock on the door at around 1:30. He gets up to get it, and he opens the door to find Abed’s dad standing in the hallway. He’s obviously been crying. Troy doesn’t know what to say, so he awkwardly waves him into the apartment. 

Mr. Nadir looks around as he walks in, stopping to examine several of the photographs on the wall.

“I haven’t seen it yet,” he says quietly, sadly. “My son has lived in this place all year, and I never came to visit.” He blinks, then looks over at Troy as if he’s just now realizing that he’s also there. “Abed said he called you?”

“Yeah.” Troy walks back to the table and picks up the bag. “Here’s everything he asked me to get. I put it in a bag, I hope that’s okay.”

Mr. Nadir smiles and grasps Troy’s shoulder. “Abed is lucky to have you for a friend.”

Troy ducks his head at the compliment. Abed must not have told his dad the details of what happened, otherwise he wouldn’t be nearly this nice about it. He can’t help but feel like he’s lying, like he’s tricking Abed’s dad into believing that he’s something he’s not. That he’s a better friend than he really is.

“Mr. Nadir,” he begins, tears forming at the corners of his eyes, “I’m so sorry—”

Mr. Nadir puts up a hand to stop him. “I am too. But Abed will be okay. I am just glad that he called me before…” He trails off, shaking his head and wiping at one of his eyes.

Abed must have called his dad after Troy left, he realizes. And Abed’s dad must have been the one who called the police. That surprises him, he didn’t expect that Abed would have reached out to his dad like that. Maybe he was wrong about their relationship. Maybe they’re closer than he thought.

“You should visit him,” Mr. Nadir continues, startling Troy. “In the hospital. Abed cares for you very much. He would be very happy to see you.” He smiles again and thanks Troy for the bag of items, closing the door gently behind him as he leaves the apartment.

Once Troy is alone again, he sits back down at the table and considers everything that just happened. Abed had reached out to him, had called him to ask him to gather up his things. He didn’t have to do that. If he was really mad, if he really hated Troy, he could have called Annie instead. But he didn’t. And Abed’s dad seemed to honestly believe that Abed still sees Troy as a friend, that he would be happy to see him. After several minutes of thinking, he pulls out his phone and looks up visiting hours for the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we'll see more of abed next chapter when troy visits him at the hospital. thank you so much to everyone who's kept up with this!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: this chapter contains references to a suicide attempt.

On Sunday, Annie agrees to go with Troy to visit Abed at the hospital. He doesn’t want to go alone, he’s still sort of afraid that Abed hates him and won’t want to see him. He feels like he needs the support. Annie drives, and neither of them says much on the way there. Troy is too distracted to talk, bouncing his leg and staring out the window. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this nervous before.

Once they get there, they have to sign in at the front desk, take the elevator up to the floor where they’re keeping Abed, wait to be led through a locked door, down a long hallway, and through another locked door, and then sign in again when they get to the actual psych ward. _It really is like a prison,_ he thinks. He hopes it’s not too obvious how intensely uncomfortable he feels.

The sign-in desk is at the front of a big room with several couches facing a large TV. There are a few people sitting on the couches or just milling around, but for the most part the room is empty. There’s a hallway leading out from the opposite side, and it’s filled with doors to what Troy assumes are bedrooms. Once they sign in, the woman at the desk stands up and walks over to one of the open doors, knocking lightly. “Abed?” she says softly. “You have visitors.”

Abed emerges from the room, looking tired. When his eyes land on Troy he stops, staring at him like he’s the last thing Abed expected to see. Troy is reminded of the last time they were staring at each other like this, and he starts to feel like it was a huge mistake to come here. It’s obviously too late to leave though, so he clears his throat and smiles nervously.

“Hey, buddy.”

Abed just keeps staring at him, eventually whispering Troy’s name like a question, like he still can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. Troy doesn’t know what he’s expecting to happen next, but he certainly doesn’t expect Abed to practically fling himself at him, wrapping his arms around him and hooking his chin over Troy’s shoulder. He’s too shocked to move for a few seconds, but he quickly comes to his senses and hugs Abed back tightly. After they break apart, Abed seems to notice Annie for the first time.

“Hi Annie,” he says, and she beams at him. The staff member (nurse? Orderly? Troy’s not sure how it works) leads them to another room that’s full of tables and chairs, several of which are already occupied by people Troy assumes are other patients and their guests. The three of them sit down at an empty table, and the staff member smiles at them and leaves.

“How’s everything going?” Annie asks. Abed shrugs.

“It’s okay. There’s a lot of doctors and therapy sessions that I have to go to. They don’t play a lot of TV or movies that I like, so it’s kind of boring.” He pauses. “I miss you guys.”

“Aw,” Annie replies, “we miss you too.” Troy nods. Abed smiles at them, but it seems strained. The three of them fall into a light conversation about Greendale and how everyone else in the study group is doing, very deliberately avoiding talking about where they are or why they’re there. Abed is participating animatedly, but Troy can tell that he’s playing Normal Abed, that he’s overcompensating to hide how he’s really feeling. He keeps glancing at Annie, so Troy assumes that he’s doing it for her sake. Troy sort of wishes that he could be alone with Abed so they could talk about what’s actually going on, but he’s not about to ask Annie to leave.

She seems to notice anyway, though, because she looks between them and stands up. “I never ate lunch,” she says. “There’s a place right next to the hospital, I think I’m gonna go get a sandwich. It’s really good to see you, Abed.” She nods at both of them, and Troy flashes her a grateful smile before she walks out. He makes a mental note to let her know how much he appreciates her later.

With Annie gone, Abed slumps back in his chair slightly, dropping the fake happy act. He’s looking down, fiddling with his fingers in his lap, and it strikes Troy how small and how lost he looks. His arms are covered by the sleeves of the hoodie he’s wearing, but Troy can’t stop thinking about the (presumably now bandaged) cuts that he knows are underneath. He doesn’t want to stare, though, doesn’t want to make Abed uncomfortable, so he forces himself to look up at Abed’s face. After several seconds, Abed opens his mouth to speak.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he mumbles, still staring at his lap. “I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

“What?” Troy says. “I didn’t think you’d want to see _me_.” Abed finally looks up at that, furrowing his brow.

“Why wouldn’t I want to see you?” He seems genuinely confused, like he has no idea what Troy’s talking about. Like Troy hadn’t done the worst thing he possibly could have.

“After what I did?” He replies incredulously. “What I said to you? I thought you’d hate me. I wouldn’t blame you if you _did_ hate me.”

Abed considers that. “You did kind of seem more okay with me dying than I expected.”

“Abed, I am so sorry—” he begins, and then his brain catches up to his ears. “Wait, what?”

“I mean, I ran some simulations,” Abed continues, “but I guess Annie was right. They’re not always accurate, I should stop relying on—”

“Abed.” Troy stops him. “Did you say _dying?_ Were you…” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “ _Were you trying to kill yourself?_ ”

Abed cocks his head to the side. “I thought you knew,” he says quietly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Troy shakes his head. “What I did, how I reacted, that was inexcusable. Unforgivable. But I didn’t think...Jesus, I thought you were just _hurting_ yourself. I didn’t know that you were—” He swallows. “Suicidal.”

“Oh,” Abed whispers. He seems surprised, like he hadn’t even considered that that was a possibility. Troy feels his heart break.

“Abed,” he continues, “listen to me. You’re my best friend. I love you. So much. And even when I’m mad at you, I would never, _ever,_ want you to...to die, or want you to go away, or want to stop being your friend. Okay? _Ever_.”

Abed smiles at that, and Troy can tell it’s genuine, not the fake smile he was using earlier when Annie was there. “Okay.”

Troy extends his right arm in front of him and raises his eyebrows like it’s a question, his left hand hovering over his chest. Abed’s smile grows and they do their handshake, and Troy feels like a hundred pound weight has been lifted off of his chest. He can feel tears forming at the corners of his eyes, and he tries to blink them away. “I promised myself I wouldn’t cry,” he says, and Abed puts his hand on top of Troy’s on the table.

After that, they fall into a comfortable, familiar rhythm, Abed giving Troy an extremely detailed plot summary of a movie they’d been playing on the TV the previous night that he hadn’t seen before. Troy’s relieved to see that he seems more like himself than earlier, that is, he seems like normal Abed instead of Normal Abed. He knows that their friendship will still mostly likely change as a result of all this, and he still wants to have a long talk with Abed once he comes home from the hospital, but he’s unbelievably glad that he hasn’t ruined what they have together. Abed’s halfway through giving his opinions on the direction of the movie when he stops suddenly.

“Wait,” He says, his eyes wide. “So I thought that you were mad at me, and you thought that I was mad at you? But it turns out that actually neither of us was mad at the other?”

“Um, yeah. Seems like it.”

Abed nods to himself. “Classic misunderstanding trope. Cool.”

“Yeah,” Troy replies, and he can’t help but chuckle—at Abed’s excitement, at the relief he’s feeling, at the absurdity of this whole situation. ”Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Hey guys,” Annie’s voice says from behind Troy, and he tries to discreetly wipe his eyes. If she notices it, she doesn’t say anything, and he amends his mental note to also buy her coffee for the next month. “They just told me that visiting hours are about to end. Troy and I should probably head out.”

Troy looks around, and most of the other people in the room are starting to get up and head for the door. He and Abed both stand up, and Abed hugs Annie, and then Troy. They do their handshake again for good measure, then all three of them walk out of the room. Abed walks back to his bedroom while Troy and Annie head toward the exit, and when he reaches the doorway he turns around and waves at them, and they both wave back.

“So,” Annie says when they get back in the car. “How did it go?”

“Good,” Troy responds. “Really good.” He can’t stop smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up the next chapter might be a little shorter, but i want to keep it separate from the part that comes afterward. possibly. and of course, thank you to everyone who keeps reading and enjoying this extremely self indulgent project of mine. heart eyes emoji


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter brought to you by me listening to wouldn't it be nice by the beach boys on loop while baking banana bread

Abed is released from the hospital the following Friday. Troy’s been talking on the phone with him every day, but he hasn’t gotten to see him again because his classes conflict with visiting hours. He still looks tired when Troy picks him up that afternoon, but also less lost than he had when he and Annie had visited, more confident. Troy’s relieved to see the change, and when the two of them settle in his car he looks over at Abed before starting the engine.

“Can we talk? About...everything?”

Abed sighs. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. But can we do it tomorrow? It’s been a long week and I’m really tired and I don’t think I have the words for it right now.”

“Yeah,” Troy says. “Of course. No rush. You just let me know when you’re ready, okay?” Abed nods, relaxing back into his seat. “Do you wanna watch a movie tonight?”

Abed lights up at that, and they spend most of the drive home trying to choose a movie. By the time Troy’s pulling in front of their building, they’ve settled on the original Star Wars (Troy knows it’s technically called A New Hope, but Abed refuses to call it that because _it’s the original and when it was released it was just called Star Wars and trying to rename it after the fact is like rewriting history_ ). Annie’s waiting by the door when they enter the apartment, and she runs over to give Abed a hug.

“It’s good to have you back,” she says as she steps away. “The apartment hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Thanks,” Abed replies. “It’s good to be home.” He looks at Troy when he says the word _home,_ and for some reason it sort of makes Troy want to cry. Instead, he just blinks a few times and offers to make them both glasses of Special Drink (he knows Annie won’t want one, even after almost a year of living with them she still hasn’t learned to appreciate some of life’s finer pleasures) while Abed sets up the movie. They ask Annie if she wants to watch with them, but she says that she has some assignments to work on, so she heads to her bedroom while Troy joins Abed by the TV. Abed wordlessly slides his chair closer to Troy’s, and Troy doesn’t mention it—he understands, after everything that’s happened and after spending a week apart he wants to be as close to him as possible right now. They settle in with a bowl of popcorn and their glasses of Special Drink, and Abed hits play on the DVD.

While they’re watching, Troy finds himself paying more attention to Abed than to the movie. He’s sitting straight up in his chair and completely focused on the screen, mouthing his favorite bits of dialogue along with the actors. Troy tries to imagine him as a little kid, watching it for the first time with the same rapt attention, and he’s struck, not for the first time, by how much he loves him—really loves him, like no one else he’s ever met. Of course he loves his family, and Annie, and the rest of his friends, and he’s cared about the girlfriends that he’s had in the past, but Abed is the first person who he feels like he can fully be himself around, who understands him and accepts him for who he is. Abed smiles at the TV when R2-D2 saves the main trio and Chewbacca from the garbage compactor on the Death Star, and Troy realizes how easy it would be right now to take his hand, to just lean over and kiss him.

Oh.

It’s like something slots into place in his brain, and a lightbulb goes off over his head, and he finally fits the last missing piece into a puzzle, and a million other overused metaphors all at once. A part of him is surprised, and another part of him is surprised that he’s so surprised, and another part of him wonders how he could have been so _stupid_ for so long. He should have known, of _course_ he should have known, but he thinks that maybe, secretly, he’s always known, because looking at Abed has always felt like coming home and he feels like a piece of him is missing whenever they’re apart and almost everyone else in the study group has told him that he has a certain smile reserved specifically for Abed. He really wishes that he’d had this revelation at literally any other time, though, because he doesn’t want to derail the conversation that they’re going to have tomorrow. He doesn’t even know if he wants to tell Abed about this, actually, because as far as he knows Abed is straight (although he also thought that _he_ was straight up until about ten seconds ago) and he doesn’t want to weird him out or scare him off. Their friendship is the most important thing, it always has been.

When they finish the movie, they naturally decide to also watch Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, turn it into a true marathon. Annie turns her bedroom light off sometime during Empire, and by the time they're done with all three it’s well past midnight. They quietly brush their teeth in the bathroom, then head to the blanket fort to go to bed. Abed smiles at Troy before he turns out the light, and for the first time Troy understands the fluttering in his chest.

When he falls asleep, he dreams about Abed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA you thought i was gonna keep this entirely platonic...these bitches gay


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which abed submits to the mortifying ideal of being known.

On Saturday, they both sleep in, and by the time they get up Annie has already left to babysit for Shirley again (Troy is a little bit in awe of how she manages to have plans, like, _every day,_ because he’s pretty sure if he was that busy his head would explode). They had agreed that they would talk whenever Abed feels ready for it, so in the meantime Troy sits at the table with his biology book and tries to figure out what exactly the difference is between mitosis and meiosis. It’s around two in the afternoon when Abed emerges from the blanket fort and sits down in the chair next to him.

He’s looking down and fidgeting with his hands, which is understandable—Troy knows that he doesn’t like talking about his emotions, so the fact that he was willing to do this at all is a big deal. For a while he seems to be trying to figure out what to say, and then he clears his throat softly.

“You were right.”

“What?” Troy says, because as much as Jeff likes to joke that they can read each other’s minds, they can’t, although he thinks that it would really come in handy right now if they could. Also it would just be super cool in general, because then they could talk to each other even when they’re not even in the same room. He realizes that he’s getting sidetracked, though, so he focuses back on Abed, who’s still not looking at him.

“You were right. About me having mental issues.”

God, Troy wishes he’d never sent that stupid fucking text.

“Abed—”

“No,” Abed interrupts, “let me finish.” He takes a deep breath. “When I was a kid, I saw a lot of different psychiatrists and therapists. I stopped going in high school, but recently my dad’s been trying to convince me to start seeing one again. We’ve been arguing about it for a while. I think you heard me a couple of times.”

“Is that why you called him?” Troy asks. “After…you know. And is that why he called the cops?”

Abed nods, sighing. “I guess he was right. This isn’t the first time I’ve…” He pauses, considering. “Hurt myself,” he finishes carefully. The words _been suicidal_ hang in the air, unspoken but clearly implied.

“I didn’t know,” Troy says quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

Abed stops looking at his lap to look up at the ceiling, and he starts bouncing his leg under the table. He’s clearly agitated. “I don't even know why I was doing it, everything just felt like so much, and I couldn't stop fucking up, and...this is so _stupid,_ ” he whispers, more to himself than to Troy. “I thought I had it under control, I didn’t...this is _my fault,_ I—”

“ _Abed,_ ” Troy stops him, “listen to me. This is _not your fault_. Okay? You need to understand that.” He thinks carefully about what he says next, because he really wants to say it right, and it’s the thing that’s been on his mind for weeks and he’s afraid that if he doesn’t say it now he might never work up the courage to say it again. “But why didn’t you say anything about what was going on? Do you… Did you not trust me enough?”

Abed furrows his brow in confusion, looking directly at Troy for the first time since he sat down. “Of course I trust you. You’re my best friend.”

“Then why wouldn’t you _talk to me?_ ” He’s basically pleading at this point, all of his anxieties about the strength of their friendship and his own inadequacies as a friend spilling out at once. Abed thinks for a minute before answering.

“Our friendship is built on a mutual sense of childlike wonder and a love of hijinks and escapades. It’s perfect the way it is. I didn’t want to risk ruining it by introducing the uncertainty of emotion, which I’m not good at expressing or interpreting. Besides, you have other friends that are better equipped to talk about emotions with you, like Annie. Or Shirley. Or—” He pauses, looking back down at his lap. “Britta.”

“Wait,” Troy says. He thinks he’s starting to get a better idea of what this is really about. “Britta? Is this about when we went to lunch together? What, do you think that if I started dating her I wouldn’t want to hang out with you anymore?”

Abed doesn’t say anything, and that’s answer enough. Troy’s heart sinks. “Do you think I’m trying to replace you? Is that why you...”

“No,” Abed says quickly. “Well, not entirely. There were a lot of factors that got me to...the point I was at. But...I would be lying if I said that wasn’t one of them.”

“Look,” Troy says, ”I thought it was sweet of Annie to set us up, but I don’t like Britta like that. I don’t even—” He starts to say _I don’t even think I like girls,_ but stops himself. This definitely isn’t the time for that conversation. “Nevermind. And even if I did start dating someone, you would still be my best friend. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

Abed shakes his head. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes,” Troy replies, “I do. I promise. And I _want_ to talk about feelings and stuff with you, man. I love having awesome adventures, but I also want to know when something’s wrong so I can try to help. I care about you.”

“Everyone wants to help me,” Abed says automatically. “But they can’t. And then they leave.” His face softens as he looks back up at Troy. “I didn’t want you to see how crazy I am. I didn’t want you to leave.”

“Abed, you’re not crazy,” Troy says. “And I’m not going to leave.”

“But you did.” It hits Troy like a punch in the chest, but he knows that he deserves all of the guilt and the same he’s feeling. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” Abed continues, and he’s back to talking in that detached, matter-of-fact tone that Troy knows is just a defense mechanism he uses to hide what he’s actually feeling. “You were presented with an unexpected and uncomfortable situation, it’s hard to predict how you’ll react if something like that happens. And that kind of thing wasn’t what you signed on for when you agreed to be my friend, it’s understandable that you wouldn’t want to—”

“Abed,” Troy stops him before he can keep rambling. “I could give a million excuses for why I walked out on you; I was tired, I was angry, I thought the whole thing was my fault, I didn’t realize how bad things actually were. But none of those things change the fact that what I did was wrong. I fucked up, and I am so, so sorry. But I wasn’t leaving for good. Even when I was mad at you, I was always going to come back. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’re the most important person in my life. I would do anything not to lose you.”

Abed takes a few seconds to process that, opening and closing his mouth several times like he’s trying to decide what to say. “I believe you,” he finally says, and Troy feels relief wash over him. Abed tilts his head. “But you were angry. With me.”

Figures that that’s the one thing he would fixate on. Troy sighs. “Yeah, I was. I was angry because I could tell something was wrong, but you wouldn’t talk to me about it. I felt helpless. It made me feel like a bad friend.”

“But you’re not a bad friend. You’re an awesome friend. And I wasn’t trying to exclude you specifically, I don’t talk to anyone about my feelings.”

Troy wills himself not to get frustrated with Abed’s stubbornness. “I know you don’t. But if someone is trying to reach out to you, it isn’t your call to just automatically shut them out. You don’t have to deal with everything by yourself, especially if you have friends who want to help you. It’s okay to need other people.”

That must strike a nerve, because Abed starts shaking his head violently. “I don’t need other people,” he says frantically. “They need _me_. I don’t need other people.” He curls up in the chair, hugging his knees and rocking back and forth, repeating it like a mantra. Troy’s not quite sure what to do, if he should risk trying to touch Abed right now, so he just stays by his side and waits for him to calm down. After a few minutes he uncurls himself, and he seems both surprised and relieved when he sees that Troy is still there. Troy hopes that Abed’s at least starting to believe that he’s not going to leave, that he’s here to stay.

“You’re right that other people need you,” he says gently. “ _I_ need you. And I know that people have taken advantage of you and left you before, and I am so sorry about that, but I promise that I’m not one of those people. Maybe...maybe we can need each other.” He tries to think of a reference to help Abed understand what he means, and then it hits him. “We’re like the Inspector and Constable Reggie, right? And Reggie obviously needs the Inspector, he’s the one that takes him on adventures all over the universe. But doesn’t the Inspector also need Reggie? I mean, Reggie is always there for him, he helps the Inspector make tough decisions, he helps him stay connected to humanity. And I bet it would get pretty lonely exploring all of space and time without a friend.”

Abed nods slowly. “I guess you’re right.”

Troy grins. “So when something’s wrong, you’ll talk to me about it? So we can try to figure out what to do together?”

“I can try,” Abed says. “But I’m still not very good at expressing what I’m feeling. Most of the time _I_ don’t even know what I’m feeling.”

“Well we can work on that,” Troy says, and then he has an idea. “What if we came up with some kind of system? Like I ask you how you are, and no matter what you’re feeling, you can _say_ that you’re fine. But _fine_ can be spelled two different ways, like, F-I-N-E and F-Y-N-E, and one of them can mean ‘actually fine’ and the other can mean ‘not fine.’ So they sound the same, but they’re actually different. And only we know which is which.”

Abed’s eyes light up at that. “Like a secret code?”

“Yeah,” Troy says, and he can’t help but smile at Abed’s excitement. “Like a secret code.”

“Cool,” Abed says. “Cool cool cool.” He nods to himself. “I think I could do that.”

“Great. We can start with that, and then work from there. And I can work on telling you when I’m frustrated or angry and why, so we can talk about it and work it out instead of me stewing until I do something really stupid, because I never, ever want that to happen again. I am so, so sorry, Abed.”

“I forgive you,” Abed says, and Troy can tell that he means it. “Sounds like we both have things we need to work on.”

“Yeah,” Troy replies. “I guess we do.” He opens his arms for a hug, and Abed happily closes the gap between them. “I love you.”

Abed hugs him tighter, and when he replies, Troy knows that it’s as Abed, and not as Han Solo.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew!! that's it for now! unless...i wrote a little sequel where they get together...haha...unless...?
> 
> thank you so so much to everyone who's read and supported this!! i truly appreciate it more than words can say.


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